UC-NRLF 


TWO  WORLDS 

HND  OTM6R 

R.(CH7\nD  WPTT50N  GSLD6R 


TWO  WORLDS,  AND  OTHER  POEMS 


Vy  7£.    IV.  GILDER 

1.  THE  CKiEW  'DAY 

II.  THE  CELESTIAL 

III.  LYRICS 

IV.  TWO  WORLDS,  AND  OTHER  "POEMS 


TWO  WORLDS  $  AND 
OTHER  POEMS  ®  BY 
RICHARD  WATSON  GILDER 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE 

CENTURY  CO.  N. Y. 

1891 


Copyright,  1891, 

BY  RICHARD  WATSON  GILDER. 

All  rights  reserved. 


THE  DE  VINNE  PRESS. 


CONTENTS 

I 

PAGE 

Two  WORLDS n 

I.  The  Venus  of  Milo. 
II.  Michael  Angelo's  Slave. 

II 

THE  STAR  IN  THE  CITY 15 

MOONLIGHT 17 

"I  CARE  NOT  IF  THE  SKIES  ARE  WHITE"  ...        20 

CONTRASTS         .        .        . 21 

SERENADE.     For  Music 22 

LARGESS    .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .24 

INDOORS,  AT  NIGHT 25 

THE  ABSENT  LOVER  .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .26 

"  TO-NlGHT  THE  MUSIC  DOTH  A  BURDEN  BEAR  "  .        .        27 

SANCTUM  SANCTORUM       . 28 

"  AH,  TIME,  Go  NOT  so  SOON  "  .        .        .        .        30 

THE  GIFT 31 

"THE  YEARS  ARE  ANGELS"  .        ...        .        .        34 

"  IN  HER  YOUNG  EYES  "  .        .        .        .        .        .34 

"  YESTERDAY,  WHEN  WE  WERE  FRIENDS  "  .        .        .        35 
A  NIGHT  SONG.    For  the  Guitar      .         .         .        .         .    36 

LEO 37 


M189014 


CONTENTS 
III 

PAGE 

BROTHERS          .        .        . 41 

LOVE,  ART,  AND  TIME.    On  a  picture  entitled  "  The  Por 
trait,"  by  Will  H.  Low 42 

THE  DANCERS.    On  a  picture  entitled  "  Summer,"  by  T. 

W.  Dewing     .........  43 

THE  TWENTY-THIRD  OF  APRIL     .        .        .        .  44 

EMMA  LAZARUS 45 

THE  TWELFTH  OF  DECEMBER 46 

IV 

SHERIDAN  (1888) 49 

SHERMAN  (1891) 52 

PRO  PATRIA.     In  Memory  of  a  Faithful  Chaplain.    Rev. 

William  H.  Gilder,  A.  M. ;  Fortieth  N.  Y.  Volunteers     .  54 

FAILURE  AND  SUCCESS  .        .        .        .  -              .        .  59 
J.  R.  L.     On  his  Birthday          .         .         .         .         .         -59 

NAPOLEON 60 

THE  WHITE  TSAR'S  PEOPLE 61 

V 

HIDE  NOT  THY  HEART!       .        .        .        .                .  67 

;  THE  POET  FROM  His  OWN  SORROW"       .        .        .        .  70 

1  WHITE,  PILLARED  NECK"    .        .        .        .        .        .  71 


CONTENTS  7 

PAGE 

"GREAT  NATURE  is  AN  ARMY  GAY" 72 

"  LIFE  is  THE  COST  "  74 

THE  PRISONER'S  THOUGHT 76 

THE  CONDEMNED 79 

"  Sow  THOU  SORROW  "  * 79 

TEMPTATION 80 

A  MIDSUMMER  MEDITATION Si 

"As  DOTH  THE  BIRD" 83 

VISIONS ...        .84 

I.  "  Cast  into  the  Pit." 
II.  "  Came  to  me  Once." 
in.  "With  Full-toned  Beat." 

WITH  A  CROSS  OF  IMMORTELLES 86 

THE  PASSING  OF  CHRIST 87 

CREDO 92 

NON  SINE  DOLORE    .  95 

VI 

ODE  :  Read  before  the  Society  of  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa,  Har 
vard  University,  June  26,  1890 105 

AFTER-SONG. 
To  ROSAMOND 115 

DECORATIONS  BY  H.  DE  K. 


TWO   WORLDS 

i 

THE   VENUS    OF    MILO 

GRACE,  majesty,  and  the  calm  bliss  of  life; 
No  conscious  war  'twixt  human  will  and  duty; 
Here  breathes,  forever  free  from  pain  and  strife, 
The  old,  untroubled  pagan  world  of  beauty. 

ii 

MICHAEL   ANGELO'S    SLAVE 

OF  life,  of  death  the  mystery  and  woe, 

Witness  in  this  mute,  carven  stone  the  whole. 

That  suffering  smile  were  never  fashioned  so 
Before  the  world  had  wakened  to  a  soul. 


II 


THE   STAR   IN   THE   CITY 

A 5  down  the  city  street 
I  pass  at  the  twilight  hour, 
'Mid  the  noise  of  wheels  and  hoofs 
That  grind  on  the  stones,  and  beat,- 
Upward,  by  spire  and  tower, 
Over  the  chimneys  and  roofs 
Climbs  my  glance  to  the  skies, 
And  I  see,  with  a  glad  surprise, 
A  mist  with  a  core  of  light. 

Slowly,  as  grows  the  night, — 
As  the  sky  turns  blue  from  gray, — 
Slowly  it  beams  more  bright, 
And  keeps  with  me  on  my  way. 

Soul  of  the  twilight  star 
That  leads  me  from  afar, 

15 


1 6  THE   STAR  IN   THE   CITY 

Spirit  that  keener  glows 

As  the  daylight  darker  grows, — 

That  leaps  the  chasm  of  blue 

Where  the  cross-street  thunders  through, 

And  follows  o'er  roof  and  spire, 

In  the  night-time  soaring  higher; 

I  know  thee,  and  only  I, — 

Thou  comrade  of  the  sky, — 

Star  of  the  poet's  heart, 

The  light  and  soul  of  his  art. 


MOONLIGHT 


MOONLIGHT 

T  is  twelve  o'  the  clock. 

The  town  is  still; 
As  gray  as  a  rock 

From  gable  to  sill 
Each  cottage  is  standing. 

The  narrow  street 

(Where  the  tree-tops  meet), 
From  the  woods  to  the  landing, 
Is  black  with  shadows; 

The  roofs  are  white, 
And  white  are  the  meadows; 

The  harbor  is  bright : 

Can  this  be  night  ? 


MOONLIGHT 
II 

Tis  twelve  o'  the  clock. 

The  town  is  still; 
As  still  as  a  stock 

From  harbor  to  hill. 
The  moon's  broad  marge 

Has  no  stars  near. 

Far  off  how  clear 
They  shine,  how  large ! 
Something  is  strange 

In  the  air,  in  the  light ; 
Come  forth !    Let  us  range 

In  the  black,  in  the  white, 

Through  the  day-like  night. 


in 

In  the  elm  trees  all 
No  flutter,  no  twitter; 

From  the  granite  wall 
The  small  stars  glitter. 


MOONLIGHT  19 

A  filmy  thread 

My  forehead  brushes; 

A  meteor  rushes 
From  greeji  to  red. 
Naught  is  but  the  bliss 

Of  this  dark,  of  this  white, 
Of  these  stars, —  of  this  kiss, 

O  my  Love  and  my  Light 

In  the  day  and  the  night. 


20  "/  CARE  NOT  IF   THE   SKIES  ARE    WHITE" 


I  CARE  NOT  IF  THE  SKIES  ARE  WHITE 

I  CARE  not  if  the  skies  are  white, 

Nor  if  the  fields  are  gold ; 
I  care  not  whether  't  is  black  or  bright, 
Or  winds  blow  soft  or  cold ; 

But  O  the  dark,  dark  woods, 
For  thee,  and  me,  and  love. 

Let  all  but  us  at  last  depart, 

The  great  world  say  farewell ! 
This  is  the  kingdom  of  the  heart, 
Where  only  three  may  dwell; 

And  O  the  dark,  dark  woods, 
For  thee,  and  me,  and  love. 


CONTRASTS  2i 


CONTRASTS 


THUNDER  in  the  north  sky, 
Sunshine  in  the  south; 

Frowning  eyes  and  forehead 
And  a  smiling  mouth. 


Maiden  in  the  morning, — 

Love  her!  Yes  —  but  fear  her! 

In  the  moony  shadows  — 
Nearer,  nearer,  nearer ! 


22  SERENADE 


SERENADE 

(FOR  MUSIC) 

i 

DEEP  in  the  ocean  of  night 

A  pearl  through  the  darkness  shines; 
Asleep  in  the  garden  of  night 

A  lily's  head  reclines; 
Afar  in  the  forest  of  night 

Dreams  the  nightingale ; 
Clouds  in  the  sky  of  night 

Make  one  bright  star  grow  pale. 


O  thou,  sweet  soul  of  my  love, 

Art  my  pearl,  my  lily-flower; 

Thou,  hiding  heart  of  my  love, 


SERENADE 

Art  my  bird,  in  thy  maiden  bower; 
Heart  of  my  only  love 

That  shin'st  in  the  heavens  afar  — 
Thou,  in  the  night  of  love, 

Art  my  one,  dear,  trembling  star. 

in 

Let  me  draw  thee  to  the  light 

Pearl  of  the  shadowy  sea ! 
Awake,  thou  lily  of  light, 

Turn  thy  face  divine  on  me ! 
Arouse  thee,  bird  of  the  night, 

Let  thy  voice  to  my  voice  reply! 
Star  of  thy  lover's  night, 

Shine  forth  or  I  die  —  I  die! 


24  LARGESS 


LARGESS 


SWEET  mouth,  dark  eyes,  deep  heart, — 

All  of  beauty,  all  of  glamour  heaven  could  fashion 
With  its  divinest  art; 

A  woman's  life  and  love,  a  woman's  passion  : 


But  these,  at  last,  to  win, 

Land,   or   sea,   or   hell,    or   heaven    might  well    be 

ravished 
At  price  of  any  sin, — 

Yet  freely  all  she  on  her  lover  lavished. 


INDOORS,  AT  NIGHT  25 


INDOORS,   AT   NIGHT 

THE  window's  white,  the  candle's  red, 

Show  evening  falleth  overhead; 

The  candle's  red,  the  window's  black, 

And  earth  is  close  in  midnight's  sack; 

The  candle  fades, 

The  midnight  shades 

Turn  suddenly  a  starry  blue  — 

And  now  to  dreams,  my  soul,  of  you ! 


2 6  THE  ABSENT  LOVER 


THE   ABSENT   LOVER 

THE  purple  of  the  summer  fields,  the  dark 

Of  forests,  and  the  upward  mountain  sweep — 

Broken  by  crags,  and  scar  of  avalanche; 

The  trembling  of  the  tops  of  million  trees; 

A  world  of  sunlight  thrilled  with  winds  of  dawn; 

All  these  I  feel,  I  breathe,  all  these  I  am 

When  with  closed  eyes  I  bring  thy  presence  near, 

And  touch  thy  spirit  with  my  spirit's  love. 


"TO-NIGHT  THE  MUSIC"  27 


TO-NIGHT  THE   MUSIC   DOTH  A  BURDEN 
BEAR" 

TO-NIGHT  the  music  doth  a  burden  bear, — 
One  word  that  moans  and  murmurs;  doth  exhale 
Tremulously  as  perfume  on  the  air 
From  out  a  rose  blood-red,  or  lily  pale; 
The  burden  is  thy  name,  dear  soul  of  me, 
Which  the  rapt  melodist   unknowing  all 
Still  doth  repeat  through  fugue  and  reverie; 
Thy  name,  to  him  unknown,  to  me  doth  call  — 
And  weeps  my  heart  at  every  music-fall. 


28  SANCTUM  SANCTORUM 


SANCTUM    SANCTORUM 


I  THOUGHT  I  knew  the  mountain's  every  mood, 
Gray,  black  with  storms,  or  lit  by  lightening  dawn ; 
But  once  in  evening  twilight  came  a  spell 
Upon  its  brow,  that  held  me  with  new  power; 
A  look  of  unknown  beauty,  a  deep  mood 
Touched  with  a  sorrow  as  of  human  kind. 


I  thought  I  knew  full  well  my  comrade's  face, 

But  a  new  face  it  was  to  me  this  day. 

She  sat  among  the  worshipers  and  heard 

The  preacher's  voice,  yet  listened  not,  but  leaned 

Her  head  unto  a  tone  whose  accents  fell 

On  her  sweet  spirit  only.     Deep  the  awe 

Struck  then  upon  me,  for  my  friend  no  more 


SAXCTUM  SANCTORUM  2g 

Seemed  to  be  near,  as  with  forgetting  gaze, 
And  piteous  features  steeped  in  tenderness, 
She  thought  on  things  unspeakable, —  unknown 
To  all  the  world  beside. 


in 

When  forth  doth  pass 
In  holy  pilgrimage  and  awful  quest, 
The  soul  of  thy  'soul's  comrade,  thou  must  stand 
In  silence  by,  and  let  it  move  alone 
And  unattended  far  to  the  inner  shrine: 
Thou  canst  but  wait,  and  bow  thine  head,  and  pray; 
And  well  for  thee  if  thou  may'st  prove  so  pure, — 
Ended  that  hour. —  thy  comrade  thou  regain'st, 
Thine  as  before,  or  even  more  deeply  thine. 


30  "AH,    TIME,    GO  NOT  SO  SOON' 


"AH,    TIME,  GO    NOT   SO    SOON" 

AH,  Time,  go  not  so  soon, 

I  would  not  thus  be  used,  I  would  forego  that  boon; 

Turn  back,  swift  Time,  and  let 

Me  many  a  year  forget; 

Let  her  be  strange  once  more, —  an  unfamiliar  tune, 

An  unimagined  flower, 

Not  known  till  that  mute,  wondrous  hour 

When  first  we  met! 


THE   GIFT 


THE   GIFT 


LIFE  came  to  me  and  spoke : 
"  A  palace  for  thee  I  have  built 
Wherein  to  take  thy  pleasure ; 
I  have  filled  it  with  priceless  treasure ; 
Seven  days  shalt  thou  dwell  therein, 
Thy  joy  shall  be  keener  than  sin, 
Without  the  stain  of  guilt  — 
Enter  the  door  of  oak !  " 


I  entered  the  oaken  door; 

Within,  no  ray  of  light, 

I  saw  no  golden  store, 

My  heart  stood  still  with  fright; 


32  THE   GIFT 


To  curse  Life  was  I  fain ; 
Then  one  unseen  before 
Laid  in  my  own  her  hand, 
And  said  :  "  Come  thou  and  know 
This  is  the  House  of  Woe, — 
I  am  Life's  sister.  Pain." 


in 

Through  many  a  breathless  way 
In  dark,  on  dizzying  height, 
She  led  me  through  the  day 
And  into  the  dreadful  night ; 
My  soul  was  sore  distressed 
And  wildly   I  longed  for  rest;  — 
Till  a  chamber  met  my  sight, 
Far  off,  and  hid,  and  still, 
With  diamonds  all  bedight 
And  every  precious  thing; 
Not  even  a  god  might  will 
More  beauty  there  to  bring. 


THE   GIFT  33 

IV 

Then  spoke  Life's  sister,    Pain, 

"  Here  thou  as  a  king  shall  reign, 

Here  shalt  thou  take  thy  pleasure, 

This  is  the  priceless  treasure, 

The  chamber  of  thy  delight 

Through  endless  day  and  night ; 

Rejoice,  this  is  the  end  : 

Thou  hast  found  the  heart  of  a  friend." 


•IN  HER    YOUNG  EYES' 


"THE    YEARS   ARE    ANGELS" 

THE    years  are  angels  that  bring  down  from  Heaver 
Gifts  of  the  gods.     What  has  the  angel  given 
Who  last  night  vanished  up  the  heavenly  wall  ? 
He  gave  a  friend  —  the  gods'  best  gift  of  all. 


"IN    HER   YOUNG   EYES" 

IN  her  young  eyes  the  children  looked  and  found 
Their  happy  comrade.      Summer  souls  false-bound 
In  age's  frosty  winter, —  without  ruth, — 
Lived  once  again  in  her  their  long-lost  youth. 


YESTERDAY,   WHEN  WE   WERE  FRIENDS" 


35 


YESTERDAY,  WHEN  WE  WERE  FRIENDS" 


YESTERDAY,  when  we  were  friends, 
We  were  scarcely  friends  at  all; 

Now  we  have  been  friends  so  long, 
And  our  love  has  grown  so  strong. 

ii 

When  to-morrow's  eve  shall  fall 
We  shall  say,  as  night  descends, 
Again  shall  say:  Ah,  yesterday 

Scarcely  were  we  friends  at  all  — 

Now  we  have  been  friends  so  long 
Our  love  has  grown  so  deep,  so  strong. 


3  6  A   NIGHT  SONG 

A    NIGHT   SONG 

(FOR  THE  GUITAR) 

THE  leaves  are  dark  and  large,  Love, 
'Tis  blue  at  every  marge,  Love; 

The  stars  hang  in  the  tree,  Love, 
I  '11  pluck  them  all  for  thee,   Love; 

The  crescent  moon  is  curled,   Love, 
Down  at  the  edge  of  the  world,  Love; 

I  '11  run  and  bring  it  now,   Love, 
To  crown  thy  gentle  brow,  Love; 

For  in  my  song 

The  summer  long 

The  stars,  and  moon,  and  night,  Love, 
Are  but  for  thy  delight,  Love ! 


LEO  37 


LEO 


OVER  the  roofs  of  the  houses  I  hear  the  barking  of  Leo  — 

Leo  the  shaggy,  the  lustrous,  the  giant,  the  gentle  New 
foundland. 

Dark  are  his  eyes  as  the  night,  and  black  is  his  hair  as  the 
midnight ; 

Large  and  slow  is  his  tread  till  he  sees  his  master  re 
turning, 

Then  how  he  leaps  in  the  air,  with  motion  ponderous, 
frightening  ! 

Now7  as  I  pass  to  my  work  I  hear  o'er  the  roar  of  the 
city  — 

Far  over  the  roofs  of  the  houses,  I  hear  the  barking  of 
Leo  ; 

For  me  he  is  moaning  and  crying,  for  me  in  measure 
sonorous 

He  raises  his  marvelous  voice,  for  me  he  is  wailing  and 
calling. 


38  LEO 

II 

None  can  assuage  his  grief  though  but  for  a  day  is  the 

parting, 
Though  morn  after  morn  't  is  the  same,  though  home 

every  night  comes  his  master, 
Still  will  he  grieve  when  we  sever,  and  wild  will  be  his 

rejoicing 
When  at  night  his  master  returns  and  lays  but  a  hand  on 

his  forehead. 
No  lack  will  there  be  in  the  world  of  faith,  of  love,  and 

devotion, 

No  lack  for  me  and  for  mine,  while  Leo  alone  is  living — 
While  over  the  roofs  of  the  houses  I  hear  the  barking  of 

Leo. 


Ill 


BROTHERS  41 


BROTHERS 

PASSION  is  a  wayward  child, 
Art  his  brother  firm  and  mild. 
Lonely  each 
Doth  fail  to  reach 
Height  of  music,  song  or  speech. 
If  hand  in  hand  they  sally  forth, 
East  or  west,  or  south  or  north, 
Naught  can  stay  them 
Nor  delay  them. 

Slaves  not  they  of  space  or  time 
In  their  journeyings  sublime. 


42  LOVE,  ART,  AND    TIME 


LOVE,   ART,   AND   TIME 

ON    A    PICTURE    ENTITLED    ''THE    PORTRAIT,"    BY    WILL 
H.    LOW 

SWEET  Grecian  girl  who  on  the  simbright  wall 
Tracest  the  outline  of  thy  lover's  shade, 
While,  on  the  dial  near,  Time's  hand  is  laid 
With  silent  motion  —  fearest  thou,  then,  all? 

How  that  one  day  the  light  shall  cease  to  fall 

On  him  who  is  thy  light  \  how  lost,  dismayed, — 
By    Time,    and    Time's    pale    comrade,    Death 

betrayed, — 

Thou  shalt  breathe  on  beneath  the  all-shadowing 
pall! 

Love,  Art,  and  Time  —  these  are  the  triple  powers 

That  rule  the  world,  and  shall  for  many  a  morrow : 
Love  that  beseecheth  Art  to  conquer  Time  ! 

Bright  is  the  picture,  but,  O  fading  flowers ! 

O  youth  that  passes,  love  that  bringeth  sorrow  — 
Bright  is  the  picture ;  sad  the  poet's  rhyme. 


THE  DANCERS  43 


THE. DANCERS 

ON    A    PICTURE    ENTITLED  "  SUMMER,"  BY  T.  W.  DEWING 

BEHOLD  these  maidens  in  a  row 
Against  the  birches'  freshening  green ; 
Their  lines  like  music  sway  and  flow; 
They  move  before  the  emerald  screen 
Like  broidered  figures  dimly  seen 
On  woven  cloths,  in  moony  glow  — 
Gracious,  and  graceful,  and  serene. 
They  hear  the  harp  ;  its  lovely  tones 
Each  maiden  in  each  motion  owns, 
As  if  she  were  a  living  note 
Which  from  that  curved  harp  doth  float. 


44  THE    TWENTY-THIRD   OF  APRIL 


THE  TWENTY-THIRD  OF  APRIL 

A  LITTLE  English  earth  and  breathed  air 

Made  Shakespeare  the  divine;  so  is  his  verse 

The  broidered  soil  of  every  blossom  fair ; 

So  doth  his  song  all  sweet   bird-songs  rehearse. 

But  tell  me,  then,  what  wondrous  stuff  did  fashion 
That  part  of  him  which  took  those  wilding  nights 
Among  imagined  worlds;   whence  the  white  pas 
sion 

That  burned  three  centuries  through  the  days  and 
nights  ! 

Not  heaven's  four  winds  could  make,  nor  the  round 

earth, 

The  soul  wherefrom  the  soul  of  Hamlet  flamed  : 
Nor  anything  of  merely  mortal  birth 

Could  lighten  as  when  Shakespeare's  name  is  named. 
How  was  his  body  bred  we  know  full  well, 
But  that  high  soul's  engendering  who  may  tell ! 


EMMA    LAZARUS  45 


EMMA    LAZARUS 

WHEN  on  thy  bed  of  pain  thou  layest  low 
Daily  we  saw  thy  body  fade  away, 
Nor  could  the  love  wherewith  we  loved  thee  stay 
For  one  dear  hour  the  flesh  borne  down  by  woe ; 

But  as  the  mortal  sank,  with  what  white  glow 
Flamed  thy  eternal  spirit,  night  and  day  — 
Untouched,  unwasted,  though  the  crumbling  clay 
Lay  wrecked  and  ruined  !    Ah,  is  it  not  so, 

Dear  poet-comrade,  who  from  sight  hast  gone  — 
Is  it  not  so  that  spirit  hath  a  life 
Death  may  not  conquer  ?    But,  O  dauntless  one  ! 

Still  must  we  sorrow.      Heavy  is  the  strife 

And  thou  not  with  us  —  thou  of  the  old  race 
That  with  Jehovah  parleyed,  face  to  face. 


46  THE    TWELFTH  OF  DECEMBER 


THE   TWELFTH    OF   DECEMBER 

ON  this  day  Browning  died  ? 
Say,  rather :  On  the  tide 

That  throbs  against  those  glorious  palace  walls; 
That  rises  —  pauses — falls 

With  melody,  and  myriad-tinted  gleams; 

On  that  enchanted  tide, 

Half  real,  and  half  poured  from  lovely  dreams, 
A  Soul  of  Beauty, —  a  white,  rhythmic  flame, — 
Passed  singing  forth  into  the   Eternal  Beauty  whence 
it  came. 


IV 


SHERIDAN  49 


SHERIDAN 


QUIETLY,  like  a  child 
That  sinks  in  slumber  mild, 
No  pain  or  troubled   thought    his  well-earned  peace 

to  mar, 
Sank  into  endless  rest  our  thunder-bolt  of  war. 

ii 

Though  his  the  power  to  smite 

Quick  as  the  lightning's  light, — 
His  single  arm  an  army,  and  his  name  a  host, — 
Not  his  the  love  of  blood,  the  warrior's  cruel  boast. 

in 

But  in  the  battle's  flame 
How  glorious  he  came  !  — 
Even  like  a  white-combed  wave  that  breaks  and  tears 

the  shore, 

While  wreck  lies  strewn  behind,  and  terror  flies  before. 
4 


5° 


SHERIDAN 


IV 

'T  was  he, — his  voice,  his  might, — 

Could  stay  the  panic-flight, 

Alone  shame  back  the  headlong,  many-leagued  retreat, 
And  turn  to   evening  triumph  morning's  foul   defeat. 

v 

He  was  our  modern  Mars; 

Yet  firm  his  faith  that  wars 

Erelong  would  cease  to  vex  the  sad,  ensanguined  earth, 
And  peace  forever  reign,  as  at  Christ's  holy  birth. 

VI 

Blest  land,  in  whose  dark  hour 

Arise  to  loftiest  power 

No  dazzlers  of  the  sword  to  play  the  tyrant's  part, 
But  patriot-soldiers,  true  and  pure  and  high  of  heart ! 

VII 

Of  such  our  chief  of  all ; 

And  he  who  broke  the  wall 

Of  civil  strife  in  twain,  no  more  to  build  or  mend  ; 
And  he  who  hath  this  day  made  Death  his  faithful 
friend. 


SHERIDAN 


51 


VIII 

And  now  above  his  tomb 

From  out  the  eternal   gloom 

"  Welcome !  "  his  chieftain's  voice  sounds  o'er  the  can 
non's  knell ; 
And  of  the  three  one  only  stays  to  say  "  Farewell ! " 


52 


SHERMAN 


SHERMAN 
i 

GLORY  and  honor  and  fame  and  everlasting  laudation 
For  our  captains  who  loved  not  war,  but  fought  for  the 

life  of  the  nation ; 
Who  knew  that,  in  all  the  land,  one  slave  meant  strife, 

not  peace ; 
Who  fought  for  freedom,  not   glory;  made  war  that 

war  might  cease. 


Glory  and  honor  and  fame; — the  beating  of  muffled 

drums ; 
The  wailing  funeral  dirge,  as  the  flag-wrapped  coffin 

comes. 

Fame  and  honor  and  glory,  and  joy  for  a  noble  soul ; 
For  a  full  and  splendid  life,  and  laureled  rest  at  the 

goal. 


SHERMAN  53 

III 

Glory  and  honor  and  fame ; —  the  pomp  that  a  soldier 

prizes ; 
The  league-long  waving  line  as  the  marching  falls  and 

rises ; 
Rumbling  of  caissons  and  guns,  the  clatter  of  horses' 

feet, 
And  a  million  awe-struck  faces  far  down  the  waiting 

street. 

IV 

But  better  than  martial  woe,  and  the  pageant  of  civic 
sorrow ; 

Better  than  praise  of  to-day,  or  the  statue  we  build  to 
morrow  ; 

Better  than  honor  and  glory,  and  history's  iron  pen, 

Is  the  thought  of  duty  done  and  the  love  of  his  fellow- 
men. 


54  PRO  PATRIA 


PRO    PATRIA 

IN    MEMORY    OF    A    FAITHFUL    CHAPLAIN* 
I 

EREWHILE  I  sang  the  praise  of  them  whose  lustrous 
names 

Flashed  in  war's  dreadful  flames; 
Who  rose  in  glory,  and  in  splendor,  and  in  might 

To  fame's  sequestered  height. 

ii 

Honor  to  all,  for  each  his  honors  meekly  carried, 

Nor  e'er  the  conquered  harried  ; 
All  honor,  for  they  sought  alone  to  serve  the  state  — 

Not  merely  to  be  great. 

*  The  chaplain  referred  to  lost  his  life  through  taking  upon 
himself  the  visitation  of  the  army  smallpox  hospital,  near  the 
camp  of  his  regiment,  the  4Oth  N.  Y.  Vols.,  at  Brandy  Station, 
Virginia,  April,  1864. 


PRO  P ATRIA  5- 

III 

Yes,    while    the    glorious    past    our    grateful    memory 
craves, 

And  while  yon  bright  flag  waves, 
Lincoln,  Grant,  Sherman,  Sheridan,  the  peerless  four, 

Shall  live  forever  more; 


IV 

Shall  shine  the  eternal  stars  of  stern  and  loyal  love, 

All  other  stars  above ; 
The  imperial  nation  they  made  one,  at  last,  and  free, 

Their  monument  shall  be. 


Ah  yes !  but  ne'er  may  we  forget  the  praise  to  sound 

Of  the  brave  souls  that  found 

Death  in  the  myriad  ranks,  'mid  blood,  and  groans, 
and  stenches  — 

Tombs  in  the  abhorred  trenches. 


56  PRO  PATR1A 

VI 

Comrades  !  To-day  a  tear- wet  garland  I  would  bring  — 

But  one  song  let  me  sing, 
For  one  sole  hero  of  my  heart  and  desolate  home ; 

Come  with  me,  Comrades,  come ! 


VII 

Bring  your  glad  flowers,  your  flags,  for  this  one  humble 

grave ; 

For,  Soldiers,  he  was  brave ! 
Though  fell  not    he   before   the    cannon's   thunderous 

breath, 
Yet  noble  was  his  death. 


VIII 

True  soldier  of  his  country  and  the  sacred  cross, — 

He  counted  gain,  not  loss, 
Perils  and  nameless  horrors  of  the  embattled  field, 

While  he  had  help  to  yield. 


PRO  P ATRIA  57 

IX 

But    not    where    'mid    wild    cheers    the    awful   battle 
broke, — 

A  hell  of  fire  and  smoke, — 
He  to  heroic  death  went  forth  with  soul  elate  — 

Harder  his  lonely  fate. 


Searching  where   most  was   needed,  worst   of  all  en 
dured, 

Sufferers  he  found   immured, — 
Tented  apart  because  of  fatal,  foul  disease, — 

Balm  brought  he  unto  these  : 

XI 

Celestial  balm,  the  spirit's  holy  ministry, 

He  brought,  and  only  he  ; 

Where  men  who  blanched  not  at  the  battle's  shell  and 
shot 

Trembled,  and  entered  not. 


58  PRO  PATRIA 

XII 

Yet  life  to  him  was  oh,  most  dear, — home,  children, 
wife, — 

But,  dearer  still  than  life, 
Duty — that  passion  of  the  soul  which   from  the   sod 

Alone  lifts  man  to  God. 


XIII 

The  pest-house  entering  fearless  —  stricken  he  fearless 

fell, 

Knowing  that  all  was  well : 
The    high,    mysterious    Power   whereof  mankind   has 

dreamed 
To  him  not  distant  seemed. 


XIV 

So  nobly  died  this  unknown  hero  of  the  war; 

And  heroes,  near  and  far, 
Sleep  now  in  graves  like  his  unfamed  in  song  or  story  — 

But  theirs  is  more  than  glory ! 


J.  K.  L.—  ON  HIS  BIRTHDAY  59 


FAILURE   AND    SUCCESS 

HE  fails  who  climbs  to  power  and  place 
Up  the  pathway-  of  disgrace. 
He  fails  not  who  makes  truth  his  cause, 
Nor  bends  to  win  the  crowd's  applause. 
He  fails  not,  he  who  stakes  his  all 
Upon  the  right,  and  dares  to  fall ; — 
What  though  the  living  bless  or  blame, 
For  him  the  long  success  of  fame. 


J.    R.    L. 

ON    HIS    BIRTHDAY 

NAVIES  nor  armies  can  exalt  the  state, — 
Millions  of  men,  nor  coined  wealth  untold : 
Down  to  the  pit  may  sink  a  land  of  gold ; 

But  one  great  name  can  make  a  country  great. 


60  NAPOLEON 


NAPOLEON 

A  SOUL  inhuman?     No  —  but  human  all, 
If  human  is  each  passion  man  has  known : 
Scorn,  hate,  and  love  ;  the  lust  of  empire,  grown 
To  such  a  height  as  did  the  world  appal; — 

If  the  same  human  soul  may  soar  and  crawl 
As  soared  his  and  as  crawled;  if  to  be  shown 
The  utmost  heaven  and  hell;  if  to  atone 
For  fame  consummate  by  colossal  fall ; — 

If  human  't  is  to  see  friend,  partisan 

Turn,  dastardly,  the  imperial  hand  to  tear 
That  fed  them;  if  through  gnawing  years  to  plan 

Vengeance,  and  space  to  breathe  the  unfettered  air, — 
No  alien  from  his  kind  but  very  man 
Slow  perished  on  that  island  of  despair. 


THE    WHITE    TSAR'S  PEOPLE  61 


THE   WHITE   TSAR'S   PEOPLE 

PART    I 

THE  White  Tsar's  people  cry  : 
"  Thou  God  of  the  heat  and  the  cold, 
Of  storm  and  of  lightning, 
Of  darkness,  and  dawn's  red  brightening ; 
Hold,  Lord  God,  hold, 
Hold  Thy  hand  lest  we  curse  Thee  and  die." 

The  White  Tsar's  people  pray : 
"  Thou  God  of  the  South  and  the  North, 
We  are  crushed,  we  are  bleeding; 
T  is  Christ,  't  is  Thy  Son  interceding ; 
Forth,   Lord,  come  forth  ! 
Bid  the  slayer  no  longer  slay." 


62  THE    WHITE    TSAR'S  PEOPLE 

The  White  Tsar's  people  call 
Aloud  to  the  skies  of  lead  : 
"  We  are  slaves,  not  freemen ; 
Ourselves,  our  children,  our  women, — 
Dead,  we  are  dead, 
Though  we  breathe,  we  are  dead  men  all. 

"  Blame  not  if  we  misprize  thee 
Who  can,  but  will  not  draw  near. 
'Tis  Thou  who  hast  made  us  — 
Not  Thou,  dread  God,  to  upbraid  us. 
Hear,  Lord  God,  hear! 
Lest  we  whom  Thou  madest  despise  Thee." 


PART    II 

Then  answered  the  most  high  God, 
Lord  of  the  heat  and  the  cold, 
Of  storm  and  of  lightning, 
Of  darkness,  and  dawn's  red  brightening : 
"  Bold,  yea,  too  bold, 
Whom  I  wrought  from  the  air  and  the  clod ! 


THE    WHITE    TSAR'S  PEOPLE  63 

"  Hast  thou  forgotten  from  me 
Are  those  ears  so  quick  to  hear 
The  passion  and  anguish 
Of  your  sisters,  your  children  who  languish 
Near  ?  Ah,  not  near  — 
Far  off  by  the  uttermost  sea ! 


"  Who  gave  ye  your  hearts  to  bleed 
And  brains  to  weave  and  to  plan  ? 
Why  call  ye  on  heaven  — 
'T  is  the  earth  that  to  you  is  given  ! 
Plead,  ye  may  plead, 
But  for  man  I  work  through  man. 


"  Who  gave  ye  a  voice  to  utter 
Your  tale  to  the  wind  and  the  sea  ? 
One  word  well  spoken 
And  the  iron  gates  are  broken. 
From  me,  yea,  from  me 
The  word  that  ye  will  not  mutter. 


64  THE    WHITE    TSAR'S  PEOPLE 

"  I  love  not  murder  but  ruth. 
Begone  from  my  sight  ye  who  take 
The  knife  of  the  coward  — 
Even  ye  who  by  heaven  were  dowered ! 
Wake  ye,  O  wake, 
And  strike  with  the  sword  of  Truth ! 


"  Fear  ye  lest   I   misprize  ye  — 
I  \vho  fashioned  not  brutes,  but  men. 
After  the   lightning 

And  darkness  —  the  dawn's  red  brightening ! 
Men  !     Be  ye  men  ! 
Lest  I  who  made  ye  despise  ye !  " 


V 


HIDE   NOT   THY  HEART  67 


HIDE    NOT   THY    HEART 


THIS  is  my  creed, 
This  be  my  deed : 
"  Hide  not  thy  heart!" 
Soon  we  depart ; 
Mortals  are  all, 
A  breath,  then  the  pall ; 
A  flash  on  the  dark  — 
All  's  done  —  stiff  and  stark. 
No  time  for  a  lie  : 
The  truth,  and  then  die. 
Hide  not  thy  heart! 


68  HIDE  NOT   THY  HEART 


Forth  with  thy  thought! 
Soon  't  will  be  naught, 
And  thou  in  thy  tomb. 
Now  is  air,  now  is  room. 
Down  with  false  shame; 
Reck  not  of  fame ; 
Dread  not  man's  spite; 
Quench  not  thy  light. 
This  be  thy  creed, 
This  be  thy  deed: 
"  Hide  not  thy  heart !  " 


in 

If  God  is,  he  made 
Sunshine  and  shade, 
Heaven  and  hell; 
This  we  know  well. 
Dost  thou  believe? 
Do  not  deceive; 


HIDE  NOT   THY  HEART  69 

Scorn  not  thy  faith  : 
If  't  is  a  wraith, 
Soon  it  will  fly. 
Thou,  who  must  die, 
Hide  not  thy  heart! 


IV 

This  is  my  creed, 
This  be  my  deed! 
Faith,  or  a  doubt  — 
I  shall  speak  out 
And  hide  not  my  heart. 


7o        "THE   POET  FROM  HIS  OWN  SORROW'- 


THE    POET   FROM    HIS  OWN    SORROW 

THE  poet  from  his  own  sorrow 

Poured  forth  a  love-sad  song. 
A  stranger,  on  the  morrow, 

Drew  near,  with  a  look  of  wrong, 
And  said — "Beneath  its  pall 

I  have  hidden  my  heart  in  vain  — 
To  the  world  thou  hast  sung  it  all! 

Who  told  thee  my  secret  pain  ?  " 


"WHITE,  PILLARED  NECK"  71 


"WHITE,   PILLARED   NECK" 

WHITE,  pillared  neck;  a  brow  to  make  men  quake; 

A  woman's  perfect  form; — 
Like  some  cool  marble,  should  that  wake, 

Breathe,  and  be  warm. 

A  shape,  a  mind,  a  heart — 

Of  womanhood  the  whole: 
Her  breath,  her  smile,  her  touch,  her  art, 

All  —  save  her  soul. 


7  2         "GREAT  NATURE  IS  AN  ARMY  GAY 


GREAT    NATURE    IS   AN    ARMY  GAY 

GREAT  nature  is  an  army  gay. 
Resistless  marching  on  its  way ; 
I  hear  the  bugles  clear  and  sweet, 
I  hear  the  tread  of  million  feet. 

Across  the  plain  1  see  it  pour ; 
It  tramples  down  the  waving  grass  ; 
Within  the  echoing  mountain  pass 
I  hear  a  thousand  cannon  roar. 

It  swarms  within  my  garden  gate ; 
My  deepest  well  it  drinketh  dry. 
It  doth  not  rest ;  it  doth  not  wait ; 
By  night  and  day  it  sweepeth  by  ; 
Ceaseless  it  marches  by  my  door; 
It  heeds  me  not,  though  I  implore. 
I  know  not  whence  it  comes,  nor  where 
It  goes.     For  me  it  doth  not  care  — 


"GREAT  NATURE   IS  AN  ARMY  GAY"        j 

Whether  I  starve,  or  eat,  or  sleep, 

Or  live,  or  die,  or  sing,  or  weep. 

And  now  the  banners  all  are  bright, 

Now  torn  and  blackened  by  the  fight. 

Sometimes  its  laughter  shakes  the  sky, 

Sometimes  the  groans  of  those  who  die. 

Still  through  the  night  and  through  the  livelong  day 

The  infinite  army  marches  on  its  remorseless  way. 


74 


LIFE  IS   THE   COST 


LIFE    IS    THE    COST" 


LIFE  is  the  cost. 
Behold  yon  tower, 
That  heavenward  lifts 
To  the  cloudy  drifts  — 
Like  a  flame,   like  a  flower! 
What  lightness,  what  grace, 
What  a  dream  of  power ! 
One  last  endeavor 
One  stone  to  place  — 
And  it  stands  forever. 

ii 

A  slip,  a  fall  — 

A   cry,  a  call; 

Turn  away  —  all  's  done. 

Stands  the  tower  in  the  sun 


"LIFE  IS   THE   COST" 

Forever  and  a  day. 
On  the  pavement  below 
The  crimson  stain 
Will  be  worn  away 
In  the  ebb  and  flow; — 
The  tower  will  remain. 
Life  is  the  cost. 


75 


7  6  THE  PRISONER'S    THOUGHT 


THE    PRISONER'S   THOUGHT 


Is  'T  I  for  whom  the  law's  brute  penalty 

Was  made,  —  to  whom  the  law  once  seemed  a  power 

Far  off  and  not  to  be  concerned  withal  ? 

Am  I   indeed  this  rank  and  noisome  thing 

Fit  for  such  handling — to  be  pushed  aside 

Into  a  human  foul  receptacle, 

A  fetid  compost   of  dull  festering  crime 

Even  not  fit  for  nutriment  of  the  earth, 

But  only  here  to   rot  in  memories 

Of  my  own  shame,   and  shame  of  other  men  ? 

Here  let  me  rot  then  —  there  's  a  taste  one  has 
For  just  the  best   of  all   things,  even  of  sin. 
He  's  a  poor  devil  who  in  deepest  hell 
Knows  no   keen  relish  for  the  worst  that  is, — 
The  very  acme  of  intensest  pain, — 
Nor    smacks   charred   lips   at   thoughts   of  some   dear 
crime, 


THE  PRISONERS    THOUGHT  77 

The  sweetest,  deadliest,  damnablest  of  all. 
Sometimes  I   hug  that  hellish  happiness ; 
And  then  a  loathing  falls  upon  my  soul 
For  what  I   was,  and  am,  and  still  must  be. 


And  this  same  I,  —  there  comes  to  me  a  time, 

And  often  comes,  when  all  this  slips  away ; 

Stays  not  one  stain,  nor  scar,  nor  fatal  hurt. 

Perhaps  it  is  a  sort  of  waking  dream ; 

But  if  I  dream,  I  'm  breathing  audibly, 

I  feel  my  pulse  beat,  hear  the  talk  and  tread 

Down  these  long  corridors;    see  the  barred  blue 

Of  the  cell's  window,  hear  a  singing  bird  — 

Yes,  O  my  God,    1  hear  a  singing  bird, 

Such  as  I  heard  in  childhood.     Now,  you  think, 

I  dream  I  am  a  child  once  more.     Not  so ; 

I  am  just  what  I   am;    a  man  in  prison  — 

( Damn  them !     I   'm  innocent  of  what  they  swore 

And  proved  —  with  cant,  and  well-paid  perjury; 

Though  other  crimes,  they  know  not  of,  I  did)  — 

But  suddenly  my  soul  is  pure  as  yours ; 


7  8  THE  PRISONER'S   THOUGHT 

My  thoughts  as  clean ;  my  spirit  is  as  free 

As  any  man's,  or  any  purest  woman's. 

I  think  as  justly,  as  for  instance,  sir, 

You  think ;  as  circumspectly,   wisely,  freely, 

As  does  my  genial  keeper,  or  the  smith 

Who  enters  once  a  day  to  try  the  bars 

That  shut  my  body  out  from  freedom !     Not 

My  soul.     Why,  this  my  soul  has  thoughts  that  strike 

Into  the  very  heights  and  depths  of  Heaven. 

You  '11  think  it  passing  strange,  good  friend,  no  doubt. 

'T  is  strange ;    but  here  's  a  further  mystery  : 

Think  you  that  in  some  other  living  state 

After  what  we  call  death, —  or  in  this  life, — 

The  thinking  part  of  us  we  name  the  soul 

Can  ever  get  away  from  its  old  self; 

Can  wash  the  earth  all  off  from  it,  that  so 

It  really  will  be,  what  I  sometimes  seem  — 

As  sinless  as  a  little  child  at  birth, 

With  all  a  woman's  love  for  all  things  pure, 

And  all  a  grown  man's  strength  to  do  the  right? 


THOU  SORROW 


79 


THE    CONDEMNED 

THOU  art  not  fit  to  die  ?  —  Why  not  ? 
The  fairest  body  ripes  to  rot; 
Thy  soul  ?     Oh,  why  not  let  it  go 
Free  from  the  flesh  that  drags  it  low! 
To  die!     Poor  wretch,  do  not  deceive  . 
Thyself — who  art  not  fit  to  live. 


"SOW   THOU   SORROW" 

Sow  thou  sorrow  and  thou  shalt  reap  it; 
Sow  thou  joy  and  thou  shalt  keep  it. 


8o  TEMP '7  'ATI 'ON 


TEMPTATION 

NOT  alone  in  pain  and  gloom, 
Does  the  abhorred  tempter  come ; 
Not  in  light  alone  and  pleasure 
Proffers  he  the  poisoned  measure. 

When  the  soul  doth  rise 
Nearest  to  its  native  skies, 
There  the  exalted  spirit  finds 
Borne  upon  the  heavenly  winds 
Satan,  in  an  angel's  guise, 
With  voice  divine  and  innocent  eyes. 


A   MIDSUMMER  MEDITATION  81 


A    MIDSUMMER    MEDITATION 


FACE  once  the  thought :     This  piled  up  sky  of  cloud, 
Blue  vastness,  and  white  vastness  steeped  in  light, — 
Struck  through  with  light,  that  centers  in  the  sun, — 
This  blue  of  waves  below  that  meets  blue  sky  : 
But  a  white,  trembling  shore  between,  that  sweeps 
The  circle  of  the  bay;    this  green  of  woods, 
And  keener  green  of  new-mown,  grassy  fields; 
This  ceaseless,  leaf-like  rustle  of  the  waves; 
These  shining,  billowy  tree-tops;   songs  of  birds; 
Strong  scent  of  seaweed,  mixed  with  smell  of  pines; 
Face  once  this  thought :     Thy  spirit  that  looks  forth, 
That  breathes  the  light,  and  life,  and  joy  of  all, 
Shall  cease,  but  not  the  things  that  pleasure  thee; 
They  shall  endure  for  eyes  like  thine,  but  not 
For  thine  own  eyes ;  for  human  hearts  like  thine, 
But  not  for  thine  own  heart,  all  dust  and  dead. 
6 


82  A   MIDSUMMER  MEDITATION 

II 

Face  it,  O  Spirit,  then  look  up  once  more, 

Brave  conqueror  of  dull  mortality ! 

Look  up  and  be  a  part  of  all  thou  see'st;  — 

Ocean  and  earth  and  miracle  of  sky, 

All  that  thou  see'st,  is  thee,  and  without  thee 

Were  naught.     Thou,  too,  a  god,  dost  recreate 

The  whole;  breathing  thy  soul  on  all,  till  all 

Is  one  wide  world  made  perfect  at  thy  touch. 

And  know  that  thou,  who  darest  a  world  create, 

Art  one  with  the  Almighty,  son  to  sire  — 

Of  his  eternity  a  quenchless  spark. 


AS  DOTH   THE-  BIRD"  83 


"AS   DOTH   THE    BIRD" 

As  doth  the  bird,  on  outstretched  pinions,  dare 

The  dread  abysm's  viewless  air  — 

Take  thou,  my  soul,  thy  fearless  flight 

Into  the  void  and  dark  of  death's  eternal  night. 

IN  THE   CATSKILLS. 


84  VISIONS 


VISIONS 


CAST  into  the  pit 
Of  lonely  sorrow, 
The  suffering  soul, 
Looking  aloft, 
Sees  with  amaze 
In  the  day-time  sky 
The  shine  of  stars. 


ii 

CAME  to  me  once 
In  the  seething  town 
A  form  of  beauty, 
Innocent  brow, 
And  soul  of  youth ; 


VISIONS 

Deep,  sweet  eyes, 
An  angel's  gaze, 
And  rose-leaf  lips 
That  murmured  low : 
"  I  am  thy  sin." 


in 

WITH  full-toned  beat 
Of  the  happy  heart, 
In  a  day  of  peace, 
In  an  hour  of  joy, 
Once  in  my  life 
And  only  once, 
Of  a  sudden,  I  saw, 
The  end  of  all ! 
Death! 


86  WITH  A    CROSS   OF  IMMORTELLES 


WITH   A   CROSS   OF   IMMORTELLES 

WHEN  Christ  cried,  "  It  is  done ! " 
The  face  of  a  small  red  flower, 

Looking  up  to  the  suffering  One, 

Turned  pale  with  love  and  pain, 
And  never  shone  red  again. 
In  memory  of  that  hour 

Which  holds  the  secret  of  bliss, 
And  the  darker  secret  of  sorrow  — 
That  shall  come  to  each,  to-morrow  - 

Sweet  friend,  I  send  you  this. 


THE  PASSING   OF  CHRIST  87 


THE    PASSING   OF   CHRIST 


O  MAN  of  light  and  lore ! 

Do  you  mean  that  in  our  day 

The  Christ  has  passed  away; 

That  nothing  now  is  divine 

In  the  fierce  rays  that  shine 

Through  every  cranny  and  thought : 

That  Christ  as  he  once  was  taught 

Shall  be  the  Christ  no  more  ? 

That  the  Hope  and  Saviour  of  men 

Shall  be  seen  no   more  again ; 

That,  miracles  being  done, 

Gone  is  the  Holy  One  ? 

And  thus,  you  hold,  the  Christ 

For  the  past  alone  sufficed ; 


88  THE  PASSING   OF  CHRIST 

From  the  throne  of  the  hearts  of  the  world 

The  Son  of  God  shall  be  hurled, 

And  henceforth  must  be  sought 

New  prophets  and  kings  of  thought; 

That  the   tenderest,  truest  word 

The  heart  of  sorrow  had  heard 

Shall  sound   no  more  on  earth; 

That  he  who  has  made  of  birth 

A  dread  and  holy  rite ; 

Who  has  brought  to  the  eyes  of  death 

A  vision   of  heavenly  light, 

Shall  fade  with  our  failing  faith ;  — 

He  who  saw  in  children's  eyes 

Eternal  paradise; 

Who  looked  through  shame  and  sin 

At  the  sanctity  within; 

Whose  memory,  since  he  died, 

The  earth  has  sanctified  — 

Has  been  the  stay  and  the  hold 

Of  millions  of  lives  untold, 

And  the  world  on  its  upward  path 

Has  led  from  crime  and  wrath ;  — 


THE  PASSING   OF  CHRIST  89 

You  say  that  this  Christ  has  passed 
And  we  can  not  hold  him  fast. 


Ah  no  !     If  the  Christ  you  mean 

Shall  pass  from  this  time,  this  scene, 

These  hearts,  these  lives  of  ours, 

T  is  but  as  the  summer  flowers 

Pass,  but  return  again, 

To  gladden  the  world  of  men. 

For  he,  —  the  only,  the  true, — 

In  each  age,  in  each  waiting  heart, 

Leaps  into  life  anew  ; 

Though  he  pass,  he  shall  not  depart. 

Behold  him  now  where  he  comes ! 

Not  the  Christ  of  our  subtile  creeds, 

But  the  light  of  our  hearts,  of  our  homes, 

Of  our  hopes,  our  prayers,  our  needs ; 

The  brother  of  want  and  blame, 

The  lover  of  women  and  men, 


THE  PASSING   OF  CHRIST 

With  a  love  that  puts  to  shame 
All  passions  of  mortal  ken : 
Yet  of  all  of  woman  born 
His  is  the  scorn  of  scorn; 
Before  whose  face  doth  fly 
Lies,  and  the  love  of  a  lie ; 
Who  from  the  temple  of  God, 
And  the  sacred  place  of  laws, 
Drives  forth,  with  uplifted  rod, 
The  herds  of  ravening  maws. 

'T  is  he,  as  none  other  can, 

Makes  free  the  spirit  of  man, 

And  speaks,  in  darkest  night, 

One  word  of  awful  light 

That  strikes  through  the  dreadful  pain 

Of  life,  a  reason  sane  — 

That  word  divine  which  brought 

The  universe  from  naught. 

Ah  no,  thou  life  of  the  heart, 
Never  shalt  thou  depart! 


THE   PASSING   OF  CHRIST 

Not  till  the  leaven  of  God 

Shall  lighten  each  human  clod; 

Not  till  the  world  shall  climb 

To  thy  height  serene,  sublime, 

Shall  the  Christ  who  enters  our  door 

Pass  to  return-  no  more. 


9 2  CREDO 


CREDO 

How  easily  my  neighbor  chants  his  creed, 

Kneeling  beside  me  in  the  House  of  God. 

His  "  I  believe  "  he  chants,  and  "  I  believe," 

With  cheerful  iteration  and  consent  — 

Watching  meantime  the  white,  slow  sunbeam  move 

Across  the  aisle,  or  listening  to  the  bird 

Whose  free,  wild  song  sounds  through  the  open  door. 

Thou  God  supreme, — I  too,  I  too,  believe! 
But  oh  !  forgive  if  this  one  human  word, 
Binding  the  deep  and  breathless  thought  of  thee 
And  my  own  conscience  with  an  iron  band, 
Stick  in  my  throat.     I  cannot  say  it,  thus  — 
This  "  I  believe  "  that  doth  thyself  obscure ; 
This  rod  to  smite;  this  barrier;  this  blot 
On  thy  most  unimaginable  face 
And  soul  of  majesty. 


CREDO  93 

T  is  not  man's  faith 

In  thee  that  he  proclaims  in  formal  phrase, 
But  faith  in  man ;  faith  not  in  thine  own  Christ, 
But  in  another  man's  dim  thought  of  him. 

Christ  of  Judea,  look  thou  in  my  heart. 

Do  I  not  love  thee,  look  to  thee,  in  thee 

Alone  have  faith  of  all  the  sons  of  men!  — 

Faith  deepening  with  the  weight  and  woe  of  years : 

Pure  soul  and  tenderest  of  all  that  came 
Into  this  world  of  sorrow,  hear  my  prayer: 

Lead  me,  yea  lead  me  deeper  into  life  — 
This  suffering,  human  life  wherein  thou  liv'st 
And  breathest  still,  and  hold'st  thy  way  divine. 
T  is  here,  O  pitying  Christ,  where  thee  I  seek, 
Here  where  the  strife  is  fiercest;  where  the  sun 
Beats  down  upon  the  highway  thronged  with  men, 
And  in  the  raging  mart.     Oh !  deeper  lead 
My  soul  into  the  living  world  of  souls 
Where  thou  dost  move. 


CREDO 

But  lead  me,  Man  Divine, 
Where'er  thou  wilPst,  only  that  I  may  find 
At  the  long  journey's  end  thy  image  there, 
And  grow  more  like  to  it.     For  art  not  thou 
The  human  shadow  of  the  infinite  Love 
That  made  and  fills  the  endless  universe ! 
The  very  Word  of  him,  the  unseen,  unknown 
Eternal  Good  that  rules  the  summer  flower 
And  all  the  worlds  that  people  starry  space  ! 


NON  SINE  DO  LORE 


NON     SINE    DOLORE 


WHAT,  then,  is  Life,' —  what  Death  ? 

Thus  the  Answerer  saith; 

O  faithless  mortal,  bend  thy  head  and  listen : 

Down  o'er  the  vibrant  strings, 

That  thrill,  and  moan,  and  mourn,  and  glisten, 

The  Master  draws  his  bow. 

A  voiceless  pause;  then  upward,  see,  it  springs, 

Free  as  a  bird  with  unimprisoned  wings ! 

In  twain  the  chord  was  cloven, 

While,  shaken  with  woe, 

With  breaks  of  instant  joy  all  interwoven, 

Piercing  the  heart  with  lyric  knife, 

On,  on  the  ceaseless  music  sings, 

Restless,  intense,  serene : 

Life  is  the  downward  stroke;  the  upward,  Life; 

Death  but  the  pause  between. 


95 


96 


NON  SINE  DO  LORE 


Then  spake  the  Questioner :     If  't  were  only  this, 
Ah,  who  could  face  the  abyss 
That  plunges  down  athwart  each  human   breath  ? 
If  the  new  birth  of  Death 
Meant  only  more  of  Life  as  mortals   know  it, 
What  priestly  balm,  what  song   of  highest  poet, 
Could  heal  one  sentient  soul's  immitigable   pain? 
All,  all  were  vain ! 

If,  having  soared  pure  spirit  at  the  last, 
Free  from  the  impertinence  and  warp  of  flesh, 
We  find  half  joy,  half  pain,  on  every  blast, 
Are  caught  again  in  closer-woven  mesh, — 
Ah!  who  would  care  to  die 

From  out  these  fields  and  hills,  and  this  familiar  sky; 
These   firm,    sure   hands   that   compass   us,    this    dear 
humanity  ? 


in 


Again  the  Answerer  saith: 
O  ye  of  little  faith, 


.VON  SINE  DOLORE 


97 


Shall,  then,  the  spirit  prove  craven, 
And   Death's  divine  deliverance  but  give 
A  summer  rest  and  haven? 

By  all  most  noble  in  us,  by  the  light  that  streams 
Into  our  waking  dreams, 
Ah,  we  who  know  what  Life  is,  let  us  live! 
Clearer  and  freeer,  who  shall  doubt? 
Something  of  dust  and  darkness  cast  forever  out ; 
But  Life,  still  Life,  that  leads  to  higher  Life, — 
Even   though    the   highest   be  not   free  from  the   im 
mortal  strife. 

The  highest !     Soul  of  man,  oh,  be  thou  bold, 
And  to  the  brink  of  thought  draw  near,  behold ! 
Where,  on  the  earth's  green  sod, 
Where,  where  in  all  the  universe  of  God, 
Hath  strife  forever  ceased? 

When  hath  not  some  great  orb  flashed  into  space 
The  terror  of  its  doom  ?     When  hath  no  human  face 
Turned  earthward  in  despair, 

For   that    some    horrid    sin    had    stamped    its    image 
there  ? 


98  NON  SINE  DOLORE 

If  at  our  passing  Life  be  Life  increased, 
And  we  ourselves  flame  pure  unfettered  soul, 
Like  the  eternal  power  that  made  the  whole 
And  lives  in  all  he  made 

From  shore  of  matter  to  the  unknown  spirit  shore; 
If,  sire  to  son,  and  tree  to  limb, 
Cycle  by  countless  cycle  more  and  more 
We  grow  to  be  like  him; 
If  he  lives  on,  serene  and  unafraid 
Through  all  his  light,  his  love,  his  living  thought, 
One  with  the  sufferer,  be  it  soul  or  star ; 
If  he  escape  not  pain, —  what  beings  that  are 
Can    e'er   escape    while    Life    leads   on   and   up    the 

unseen  way  and  far? 

If  he  escape  not,  by  whom  all  was  wrought, 
Then  shall  not  we, — 
Whate'er  of  godlike  solace  still  may  be, — 
For   in  all   worlds    there    is  no    Life  without  a  pang, 

and  can  be  naught. 

No  Life  without  a  pang!     It  were  not  Life, 
If  ended  were  the  strife  — 


NON  SINE  DO  LORE  99 

Man  were  not  man,  nor  God  were  truly  God ! 

See  from  the  sod 

The  lark  thrill  skyward  in  an  arrow  of  song: 
Even  so  from  pain  and  wrong 
Upsprings  the  exultant  spirit,  wild  and  free. 
He  knows  not  all  the  joy  of  liberty 
Who  never  yet  was  crushed  'neath  heavy  woe. 
He  doth  not  know, 
Nor  can,  the  bliss  of  being  brave 
Who  never  hath  faced  death,  nor  with  unquailing  eye 
hath  measured  his  own  grave. 

Courage,  and  pity,  and  divinest  scorn  — 
Self-scorn,    self-pity,    and    high    courage    of    the 

soul; 

The  passion  for  the  goal; 

The  strength  to  never  yield  though  all  be  lost  — 
All  these  are  born 

Of  endless  strife.     This  is  the  eternal  cost 
Of  every  lovely  thought  that  through  the  portal 
Of  human  minds  doth  pass  with  following  light. 
Blanch  not,  O  trembling  mortal ! 
But  with  extreme  and  terrible  delight 


ioo  NON  SINE  DO  LORE 

Know  thou  the  truth, 

Nor  let  thy  heart  be  heavy  with  false  ruth. 

No  passing  burden  is  our  earthly  sorrow 
That  shall   depart  in  some  mysterious  morrow. 
Tis  His  one  universe   where'er  we  are  — 
One  changeless  law  from  sun  to  viewless  star. 
Were  sorrow   evil  here,  evil  it  were  forever, 
Beyond    the   scope  and   help    of  our   most   keen   en 
deavor. 

God  doth  not  dote, 
His  everlasting  purpose  shall  not  fail: 
Here  where   our  ears  are  weary  with  the  wail 
And  weeping  of  the  sufferers  ;  there  where  the  Pleiads 

float, — 

Here,  there,  forever,  pain  most  dread  and  dire 
Doth  bring  the  intensest  bliss,  the  dearest   and   most 

sure. 

T  is  not  from   Life  aside,  it  doth  endure 
Deep  in  the  secret  heart  of  all  existence. 
It  is  the  inward  fire, 
The  heavenly  urge,  and  the  divine  insistence. 


NON  SINE  DOLOXE  101 

Uplift  thine  eyes,  O  Questioner,  from  the  sod! 
It  were  no  longer  Life, 
If  ended  were  the  strife ; 
Man  were  not  man,  God  were  not  truly  God. 


VI 
ODE 

Read  before  the  Society  of  the  Phi  Beta  Kappa,  Harvard 
University,  June  26,  1890 


ODE  10: 


ODE 


IN  the  white  midday's  full  imperious  show 
What  glorious  colors  hide  from  human  sight ! 
But  in  the  breathing  pause  'twixt  day  and  night 
Forth  stream  those  prisoned  splendors,  glow  on  glow ; 
Like  billows  on  they  pour 
And  beat  against  the  shore 

Of  cloud-wrought  cliffs  high  as  the  utmost  dome, 
To  die  in  purple  waves  that  break  on  dawns  to  come. 

ii 

Divine,  divine!     Oh,  breathe  no  earthlier  word! 

Behold  the  western  heavens  how  swift  they  flame 
With  hues  that  bring  to  mortal  language  shame ; 

Swelling  and  pulsing  like  deep  music   heard 


io6  ODE 

On  sacred  summer  eves 

When  the  loud  organ  grieves 
Or  thrills  with  lyric  life  the  incensed  air, 
While    'mid   the    pillared    gloom    the    people   bow   in 
prayer. 

in 

Now  is  it  some  huge  bird   with  monstrous  vans 
That  through  the  sunset  plies  its   shadowy  way, 
Catching  on  outstretched  pinions  the  last  play 
Of  failing  tints  celestial !     See !  it  spans 
Darkly  the  fading  west, 
And  now  its  beamy  crest 

Follows  from  sight  the  glittering,  golden  sun ; 
And  now  one  mighty  wing-beat  more,  and  all  is  done. 


IV 

But  in  those  skyey  spaces  what  dread  change ! 

Thus  have  we  seen  the  mortal  turn  immortal; 

So  doth  the  day's  soul  die,  as  through  death's  portal 
The  soul  of  man  takes  up  its  heavenward  range. 


ODE 


107 


A  million  orbs  endue 

The  unfathomable  blue  — 
Till,  the  long   miracle  of  night  withdrawn, 
The  world  beholds  once  more  the  miracle  of  dawn. 


Dawn,  eve,  and  night,  the  iridescent  seas, 

Bright  moon,  enlightening  sun,  and  quivering  stars, 
The  midnight  rose  whose  petals  are  the  bars 
Of  Boreal  lights,   the  pomp  of  autumn  trees, 
The  pearl  of  curved  shells, 
The  prismy  bow  that  swells 

'Gainst  stormy  skies, —  these  witness,  these  are  sign 
Of  thee,  O  Spirit  of  Beauty,  eternal  and  divine! 


VI 

And  fairer  still  than  all, — chief  sign  of  all, — 
The  naked  loveliness  in  Eden's  bower, 
Whose  flesh  blushed  back  the  tint  of  fruit  and  flower; 

Whose  eye  reflamed  the  starlight;  who  could  call 


io8  ODE 

Father  and  friend  the  God 

That  plucked  them  from  the  sod; 
The  Almighty's  image,  and  Creation's  height ; 
Whose  deep  souls  mirrored  clear  the  circling  day  and 
night. 

VII 

Spirit  of  Beauty !  'neath  thy  joyful  spell 

Man  hath  been  ever;  therefore  doth  each  breeze 
Bring  to  his  tranced  ears  glad  melodies, — 
Voices  of  birds,  the  brook's  lo\v,  silvery  bell. — 
Wild  music  manifold, 
Which  he  hath  power  to  hold 
His  own  enchanted  harmonies  among, 
That   echo   round  the  world  the  songs  that  nature  sung. 


VIII 

And  thus  all  Beautiful  in  Holiness 

Doth  Israel  stand  before  the  Eternal  One; 
Striking  his  harp  with  rapt,  angelic  tone, 

Till  tribes  and  nations  the  Unseen  God  confess: 


ODE  109 

Knowing  that  only  where 

His  face  makes  white  the  air 
Could  such   seraphic  song  have  mortal  birth, — 
One  saving  faith  sublime  to  keep  alive  on  earth. 


IX 

And  therefore  with  most  passionate  desire 
And  longing,  man  yearned  ever  to  express 
Thy  majesty,  and  light,  and  loveliness, 
O  Spirit  of  Beauty,  uncpnsuming  fire! 
Therefore  by  ancient   Nile 
Rose  the  vast  columned  aisle, 
And  on  the  Athenian   Hill  the  \vonder  white 
Whose  shattered  ruins  are  the  world's  supreme  delight. 


So  is  it  that  to  thy  imperial  shore, 
Bright  Italy!  the  generations  fly, 
Even  but  once  to  breathe,  or  ere  they  die, 

Where  did  a  godlike  race  its  soul  outpour: 


no 


ODE 


Its  birth  divine  revealing 

On  glorious  wall  and  ceiling, — 
While  dome  and  rhythmic  statue,  Beauty-wrought, 
Declare  all  human  art  is  but  what  Heaven  hath  taught. 


XI 

Fair  Italy!  whose  dread  and  peerless  height 
The  song  is  of  the  awful   Ghibelline: 
Poet!  who  'mid  the  threefold  dream  divine 
Didst  follow  Art  and   Love  to  the  Central  Light! 
Tell  us,  O   Dante!  tell 
What  thou  dost  know  so  well, 
That  horror  and  death  are  but  the  shade  and  foil 
Of  Beauty,  deathless,  godlike,  and  without  assoil. 


XII 

Spirit  divine !  man  falls  upon  the  sod 
In  awe  of  thee,  in  worship  and  amaze: 
Thou  older  than  the  mountains,  or  the  blaze 

Of  sunsets,  or  the  sun ;  thou  old  as  God : 


ODE  1 1 1 

As  God  who  did  create 

Long  ere  man  reached  his  state 
All  shapes  of  natural  Beauty  that  men  see, 
And  his  wide  universe  did  dedicate  to  thee. 


XIII 

—  Ye  who  bear  on  the  torch  of  living  art 

In  this  new  world, —  saved  for  some  wondrous  fate,- 
Deem  not  that  ye  have  come,  alas,  too  late, 
But  haste  right  forward  with  unfailing  heart ! 
Ye  shall  not  rest  forlorn, — 
Behold,  even  now,  the  morn 
Rises  in  splendor  from  the  orient  sea, 
And  the  new  world  shall  greet  a  new  divinity. 


XIV 

Shall  greet,  ah,  who  can  say!  a  nobler  face 
Than  from  the  foam  of  Cytherean  seas: 
Loveliness  lovelier;  mightier  harmonies 

Of  song  and  color ;  an  intenser  grace : 


1 1 2  ODE 

Beauty  that  shall   endure 

Like  Chans,  heavenly-pure; 
A  Spirit  solemn  as  the  starry  night. 
And  full  as  the  triumphant  dawn  of  golden  light. 


AFTER-SONG 


TO  ROSAMOND  II5 


TO  ROSAMOND 

ROSE  of  the  world, 
Bloom  of  the  year, 
Birth  of  the  dawn ! 
By  morn's  one  star 
Lighted  to  life!  — 
Thou  and  my  songs 
Come  to  the  day 
Hand  clasped  in  hand : 

Flung  on  this  page 
May  the  glow  of  thy  name 
Back  through  each  song 
Shine  with  the  light 
Drawn  from  the  skies, — 
Thou  birth  of  the  dawn, 
Flower  of  the  morn, 
Rose  of  the  world ! 


,-Ri 


ard  W 


G468 

two— 


Two  worlds 


M189014 


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